


nights in bhujerba

by daemon



Category: Final Fantasy XII
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Idiots in Love, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Nostalgia, Older Characters, Reminiscing, Ten Years Later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 04:42:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15655989
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daemon/pseuds/daemon
Summary: It took ten years to get to this point, and looking back on the moments that led them here, Balthier can't say he regrets any of it.(In fact, he's quite proud.)





	nights in bhujerba

**Author's Note:**

  * For [czar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/czar/gifts).



> i'm an asshole and kat can attest to this in full. ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

Sunset on the coast reminded him of Rabanastre.

Specifically, it reminded him of skin washed in light and blonde locks tinted gold in the waning sun. But after night has fallen and they've joined in the revelry of the Hunter's camp, he thinks he likes the dance of shadows and flames across Vaan's skin as the younger man dances with some of the children around a roaring bonfire.

As the fires and the festivities died down, the hunters and locals retired for the night, and Vaan was the first to slip off into the dark where no eyes could follow him. Balthier waited a while before he pushed himself off the makeshift bed in their cabin and followed the line of beach until they were far from the campsite and cloaked by the night.

The moon had yet to rise and the stars were bright against a cloudless sky, with the waves lapping at the shore and the breeze picking up, it gave him such a feeling of peace it nearly made him dizzy. Ahead of him, he could see the silhouette of his partner against a backdrop of dark skies and darker ocean and his chest tightened and his lungs ached like he'd never breathe again; a gasp, and a laugh, and hands slipping from the shadows around his shoulders.

"It's kinda fun to have you chasing me for once," Vaan says, pressing close with warmth breath smelling of sweet wines ghosting across Balthier's lips, "I should run away more often."

"You bloody should not," The elder muttered, a trace of indignant denial toying with his words as he pulls Vaan tighter against himself; the heat of that body seeping into his own, "we are too old for childish games, Vaan."

Vaan arched a pale brow, a crooked smile tugging at his mouth, "We'll never be too old to be children at heart, you know. Don't be such a grump, Balthier."

(It is year two and Balthier knows deep down he is _ruined_ by this brat.)

-

"I'm going to kill him."

Fran just looked at him. Al-cid was less gracious in his amusement and would not stop laughing, even he attempted to help free Balthier from his bright-colored restraints.

"Clever boy you have there, my friend." The Rozarrian's heavily accented voice was laced with mirth and mockery, and Balthier wanted to wring his thick neck until he stopped making so much _noise_ —

"Right," Balthier grumbled as he was at last able to sit up and grab a pillow to cover himself, "that's a word for it, I suppose."

There was slight twitch of Fran's ear that gave away her own delight at the situation, even as she gathered his clothes from the floor and set them within hand's reach for him. 

Balthier cleared his throat as Al-cid admired the elaborate knots still tied in the fine silken ropes Vaan had used on the skypirate, "My lord, if you would. I should like to dress in peace."

Al-cid gave another low chuckle as he daintily dropped the the ropes on the bed, "As you wish, my friend."

Fran followed after him, giving Balthier one last pointed look before she closed the door behind her. He ignored it, for the most part, and snatched up his clothes to bring with into the attached bathing suite in order to wash away the sense of indignity at such exposure.

Truly, as much as he adored his former apprentice, some days the younger man's sense of mischief scraped deeper into Bathlier's flesh than his affection.

When he emerged later, Fran was waiting for him, arms casually folded across her chest and that carefully blank expression. Balthier threw up his hands in frustration.

"Honestly, that's not the worst situation you've dragged me out of."

Fran didn't say a word, but the glint in her dark eyes spoke volumes.

(It's year five and Balthier is as infatuated as ever with an infuriating young skypirate.)

-

The only thing Balthier remembered of the night before, was the sweetened-spice taste of rum on Vaan's lips and the heady lust in his dove-gray eyes; Balthier found himself trapped before he ever thought to search for exits or plan out his contingencies. He was ruined by a thieving _brat_ —

A brat who, incidentally, turned into quite the ambitious skypirate over the years. Even worse, he was no longer a _boy_. He'd grown more handsome, his features losing their boyish sweetness to new, finer angles and sharper smiles, and his hair now a silvered platinum pulled into a short, hasty braid over his shoulder. His eyes, however, were still as keen and playful as ever, still so full of wonder for the world and the elder skypirate was glad he'd never lost that.

Balthier woke with the beginnings of a headache, lips bruised by kisses, and— _oh, fucking hell_. Frowning as he took stock, his immediate thought was the chilled metal cuff around his wrist and the severe lack of clothing. At least he was still on the _Strahl_ , in his _own_ bed this time (last time, three years ago, it was somewhere in Rozarria and Al-Cid Margrace never failed to remind him of it).

The longer it took him to wake, the more he remembered bits and pieces of their reunion. Of long, choppy blonde locks sliding like silk against his hands as he raked his fingers through the strands; of heavy-lidded eyes watching him with patience and expectation; of smirking lips curving into knowing smiles as his own mouth sought familiar places.

He appreciated that the scent of lilies and spices clung to Vaan's skin, and something _else_ , a scent of skin that was so terribly _Vaan_ and so intoxicating, Balthier feared it was deeply ingrained in his mind— to the point it would forever be instinctual that he fall so readily into the younger man's arms.

Vaan was an addiction, a fine liquor, a delicacy Balthier could not afford to indulge in often. Only enough to sate his hunger and hope he could survive the separation at the end of it.

Fran is the one to find him this time, and the slight twitch of her ears is a tell-tale sign of her amusement, so was the slight gleam in her eyes and the twitch he barely caught from the corner of his eyes.

"Methinks you have gone soft, Balthier."

Balthier sighed, ever so put-upon after she'd pried the cuff off the overhead shelf, "Perhaps you might be right." He rubbed his wrist a little, casting a scrutinizing gaze around his cabin, "Alas, I am weak to his wiles and I find myself unashamed of it."

Fran gave a short nod before she left the small room, because she would not tell him otherwise. She had no need to.

(It is year eight, and Vaan is Balthier's most precious weakness.)

-

The body hugged against his own always shivered in the early mornings, once unused to the chill of mornings in an airship, those shudders were caused by something far more delightful these days. Balthier's smile was evident despite his intent, lips mouthing against a slender shoulder and neck, biting gently on a pierced lobe and tugging just to feel those shivers again. Upon earning a sleepy grumble for his affectionate disturbances, he nuzzles against long, feathery locks to find his lover's hidden cheek, pressing scant kisses there until the younger man finally sighed heavily against the pillows and gave in at last.

"Did you forget what sleeping in was in your old age?" Vaan groused, covering his mouth with the back of his hand to stifle a yawn as he shifted onto his back—only to find himself caged into the warmth of Balthier's chest instead.

A rare, unguarded grin spread on Balthier's face, "Why waste the hours when a dear treasure has returned to me?"

Vaan rolled his eyes heavenward with a poorly hidden smile, the haze of sleep still evident in the younger as he turned his face into his lover's shoulder, "No, _no_ , too early for that."

Balthier hummed appreciatively at the way Vaan's lengthy bangs fell over his eyes to hide them, liking that curtain, the way Vaan peeked up at him through silver strands and darkened lashes, "Never, darling."

One chance meeting in a royal vault had unintentionally given Balthier the greatest treasure in his life. It had taken them years to reach this point afterward, but it was worth it, to cradle this dreamer's heart in his hands.

(It is year ten, and Balthier hopes for a hundred more.)

-


End file.
